


Why don't you make me?

by LykosNybo



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Asphyxiation, Bottom Obi-Wan Kenobi, Choking, Crack Treated Seriously, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Robot Sex, Robot/Human Relationships, Sarcasm, Smut, The Author Regrets Nothing, obi-wan likes his talons, pure filth, robot dick, trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:34:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29809179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LykosNybo/pseuds/LykosNybo
Summary: Somehow it had all devolved from a fight as he was yanked into an empty room by the being he was supposed to be fighting. One of them had said something and the moment had grown heated. He wouldn't complain, though, Grievous was large in more ways than one.
Relationships: Grievous | Qymaen jai Sheelal/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 5
Kudos: 48





	Why don't you make me?

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry for writing this trash instead of updating my other story. I have no idea where to go with it. I'm trying, though. I PROMISE.

“Ah, ah, ahhhghg mmm fuck,” his toes curl and his spine curves as his body is rocked back and forth, Obi-Wan had no idea how the situation had spiraled out of control so quickly, but  _ force _ did it feel amazing. A long, flexible, latex dildo-esque appendage pounded into him, striking his prostate with every harsh thrust the towering cyborg delivered. His cock was pinned between his stomach and the sheets he lay on, pre-come dribbling from his slit as the friction and pressure increased. The robotic general above him leaned against his bent frame, the weight of the durasteel from the looming figure pinning him against the sheets, ass firmly against the other’s pelvic region. 

The durasteel of Grievous’ pelvis heats up and warms Obi-Wan’s ass and he presses himself back, chasing the warmth in contrast to the cold temperature of the room they took over. A mechanical whir sounds in his ears as Grievous releases his extra arms, using them to pin Obi-Wan’s hands above his head and grip his hips so tight they were sure to bruise. But Obi-Wan doesn’t care. The robo dick is attached to a mechanism designed to prod at altering speeds and Grievous kicks it into its highest setting, claws digging into Obi-Wan’s sides as he pulls the human back onto the latex cock. The auburn haired male is panting wantonly, lewd noises escaping his throat as he chokes on his own saliva, mouth open, moaning desperately and occasionally screaming Grievous' name. 

“Such a pretty mouth you have, Kenobi.” An arm releases his hands, the other one taking hold of both of his wrists, and claws find their way to his mouth, a digit scraping the inside of his cheek sharply. Obi-Wan groans in pain and his cock twitches underneath him. Grievous notices, “Filthy. You’re such a filthy human, enjoying being impaled by my cock. Do you bat your eyes at all of your enemies?”

“Mmm, no. I only dream of being taken by you, Grievous.” Obi-Wan responds sarcastically, though it goes over Grievous’ head.

“That doesn’t surprise me. I see the way you look at me, Kenobi. I bet you touch yourself to the thought of me, wishing I was there to fuck you.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes widen a little, not expecting the dirty talk from the cyborg above him - not expecting  _ any of this _ . He decides to go with it. He’s so close to a sweet, euphoric release that he’s not willing to stop now. He rocks himself back to meet Grievous’ thrusts and sucks on the digit in his mouth, a slight iron taste present. “Everytime I look at you Grievous I can’t help the lewd thoughts stirring in my head. When I’m alone, my mind goes back to you and I can’t help getting hot and bothered as I think about you absolutely dominating me,” a particularly strong thrust of Grievous’ hips make him stutter a little, but he’s enjoying his egging too much to let that deter him, “When I wrap my hands around my cock I imagine yours squeezing and stroking me, and-” Grievous removes his free hand from the side of Obi-Wan’s mouth and shoves his upper half into the worn out mattress. The large tip of Grievous’ factory made penis milks his prostate as he cums on the sheets, thighs shaking and knees buckling. Claws hold him in place as the coupling continues, the cyborg overstimulating him as he finds his own release, spilling inside of the Jedi. 

Grievous detaches himself from the human and stands at attention, his staggering height a bit intimidating from Obi-Wan’s point of view on the unsturdy bed. His back aches at the rough handling from the cyborg, but he finds himself not caring as much as he should as he stares up at the face of his...enemy? Could he really hate Grievous after this turn of events? 

He half expected the cyborg to leave, or at least to have a coughing fit after that rigorous aerobic exercise. But the general continues standing there, looking down at him, and Obi-Wan clears his throat, suddenly hyper aware that he’s entirely nude and unarmed - completely vulnerable, laid out for a being that could rip his chest open with his claw-like fingers alone. It doesn’t help that he has claws on all of his appendages and six of them at that. Blood rushes to his cheeks as they have a stare-down, both waiting for the other to move first. 

Grievous relents, finally, much to Obi-Wan’s delight, “Do you really?”

“Pardon?”

Yellow eyes narrow at him and Grievous leans down a little, “Do you think about me when you’re alone?”

Much to Obi-Wan’s chagrin, his cock twitches in interest again at the prospect of having another go at it, “And if I say yes?” He was lying, of course. One, Grievous never crosses his mind except for when he sees him face-to-face. Two, he’s almost never alone and when he is, he’s finally sleeping. No time for pleasure, so excuse him for being interested in seeing where this might go. 

The coughing fit finally happens as Grievous takes too deep a breath in astonishment, “I’d laugh at you. You’re a mockery to the order you serve. Lying down and spreading your legs for the enemy like some kind of cheap twi’lek whore.” 

“Oh, yes. When one is as well endowed as you are, I can’t help myself from wanting. Though I’d say Maul and Ventress are bigger  _ and  _ thicker.” He grins to himself as yellow eyes fill with determination. 

“You’ll never be in their company like that again, Kenobi,” claws grasp his chin and tug it down to force him into making eye contact, “You are  **_mine_ ** .” His spine tingled with electric excitement as Grievous pushed him back onto the mattress and wrapped a set of claws around his throat, cutting off his oxygen. Another set of claws, carefully, began pumping his cock, digits gliding over his shaft easily as Grievous used his spend as lube. 

His cock throbbed in Grievous’ hand and his face turned a lovely shade of vermillion. The cyborg released his hand and Obi-Wan gasped for air, inhaling sharply and his cock twitching violently - discovering a kink he didn’t previously know he had. Noted. He was already embarrassingly close to cumming as Grievous sped up, pumping his shaft with fervor.

“Nnnngh, fuck, ahhhh….MMm GRIEVOUS,” he cries out as extra limbs attach to his sensitive buds and send tiny electrical currents to his skin. Abruptly, all touches stop and Obi-Wan whines in desperation. “Please, no, don’t stop… feels so good, ah, mmm.” He’s quivering in phantom pleasure, muscles spasming lightly as he begs for more contact. Sweat gathers at his brow and he calms his breathing down enough to focus on what’s happening. Grievous is once more standing, but now he’s reaching down towards him. Obi-Wan is unsure if he should flinch back or not and ultimately decides to be pliable to whatever the giant wants. 

Grievous hesitates in his movements, taking a moment to absorb the sight quite literally laid out for him: thick lashes falling gracefully as blue eyes close in anticipation, auburn tufts splaying out wildly from the previous engagement, sweat making the man glow under him, plump lips practically begging to be kissed and at that moment, Grievous missed his actual body more than ever, wanting to claim that pretty, pink mouth. 

He lifts Obi-Wan’s body up and sits down on the mattress, its springs creaking under his full weight. He sits Obi-Wan on his lap, his back to his chest. He releases the latex dildo from its hiding place and Obi-Wan gasps as he feels it press firmly against his ass. He exhales, “Grievous, please.”

“Please what, Jedi?”

“Please just fuck me!”

He lifts the smaller male up and buries himself inside of him, fully seating the Jedi on his cock. He grabs under the Jedi’s knees and lifts, spreading them apart in the air, and pumps his cock inside, turning the setting up a level. This time, he would go slow and watch as the Jedi broke and begged for his dick, wanting to be filled like a whore. Pants were already filling the room as the shorter male moaned and gasped for breath as his hole was stretched and the feeling of being full overtook him. His cock pressed firmly against his chest, the tip furiously red - wanting so badly to release. The extra arms appear again and grab hold of his nipples, electro shocks rippling through him again, his buds becoming sensitive as the feeling travels down his spine and straight to his cock. 

Grievous grabs his chin again, “You’re mine, Kenobi. Say it.” He doesn’t release the tight grip on his chin until he repeats shakily, out of breath, “I’m yours. Fuck, only- AH..yours. Only yours.” His hand reaches up to find the back of Grievous’ head and pulls it forward for it to rest on his shoulder, finding solace in the warmth resting there from the heated durasteel. Despite Grievous not being force-sensitive, Obi-Wan feels entirely in tune with the force - its warmth radiating around him and making him buzz with energy, finally feeling peace in times of war even in the arms of his enemy. The incessant pounding and the energy cradling him with renewed warmth and a buzzing sensation sends him over the edge. Grievous spills his own release deep inside of him, satisfied with watching it drip out of his hole and coat his thighs. Obi-Wan doesn’t mind the mess and instead turns in the behemoth’s lap so that they’re chest-to-chest. He reaches up hesitantly and drags his fingertips down the sides of Grievous’ side plates connected to his face. He wraps his index fingers into the slots near the bottom of the plates and he feels shy all of a sudden. He doesn’t know what had started this or how it had spiraled out of control so quickly, but he is okay with that as he kisses the main faceplate and Grievous closes his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> I regret absolutely nothing.


End file.
